I murmured the incantation. The crystal flared bright white in my hand, then softened to a luminous glow. I inhaled sharply, awe filling my chest. Then the crystal flared with light again, and Cyara’s voice spoke into the tent.
“Veyka?” Her voice was as clear as if she sat by my side. I could hear every nuance—the slight annoyance as she tried to get the crystal to work, the lining of hope that it would.
“Ancestors,” I breathed. “I did not expect it to work.”
There was a long enough stretch of silence that I wondered if the connection had faded away. But the crystal maintained its soft glow, brightening as Cyara spoke again. “It is very strange.”
“And damned useful.” No wonder Gorlois had used them. And the Lady of the Lake. Why hadn’t my long-lost sister given me one, instead of appearing as a wraith in the woods? Probably because she did not actually count me as a sister.
I realized there was silence stretching between us when Cyara spoke again, voice cracking subtly. It was so strange, talking to a crystal. “I feel that I ought to warn you—”
I cut her off. “Arran is already here.”
More silence. I expected to hear a soft sigh, but maybe the crystal only communicated words.
“I suspected when he left Eilean Gayl. He did not even tell Lady Elayne where he was bound,” Cyara said.
I found myself laying back on the bedroll, tucking one hand under my head as I settled on my side and resting the other on the ground in front of me, crystal balanced on my palm. “He may hate the bond between us, but its demand is impossible to resist. The only time it is satisfied is if we are near.” And even then, it was still a constant ache—begging for physical consummation.
Cyara’s response came through immediately. “He does not hate it. Or you.”
I pressed my eyes closed. “I do not know what he thinks. He does not want me in his head.”
Another long pause. It was so easy to get lost in your own thoughts and forget you were actually speaking to someone when you could not see them. But when her words came, I knew it was because she’d been struggling to find the right ones. “I am sorry, Veyka.”
There was really nothing else to say.
“Thank you.”
I stroked my thumb along the smooth facet of the crystal, wishing my friend was with me. “Have Percival and Diana discovered anything?”
The response was a long time coming. “There are mentions of a darkness. But all the references we’ve found so far are vague. They are not the primary sources.”
“Always the librarian’s daughter.”
A soft laugh. So, the crystal did communicate more than just words. “The oldest histories are carved in stone.”
I wished I could see the expression on her face, let her read mine. One of the best things about Cyara was her ability to know my thoughts before even I did. It was also one of her most irritating traits. “Carvings like Arran and I found in the water gardens, and on the standing stone in the jungle,” I mused aloud.
“Yes. But there are none here in Eilean Gayl. This castle was destroyed in the Great War and rebuilt afterward, like many of the northern strongholds. The only surviving older constructions are in the south,” she explained.
I realized the thrust of her thoughts immediately.
“Near Wolf Bay.” Another place we needed to go, another hurdle between me and Baylaur and being back with Parys andGwen. I missed them even more acutely now, with the state of things between Arran and I so fraught. I sighed heavily and hoped that Cyara heard it. “Keep looking. We should arrive at the coast tomorrow.”
She made a sound on the other end, a sort of hum but without a tune. An attempt to soothe and offer comfort, even from miles and miles away. How had I gotten so lucky, to have such loyal and loving friends? In those months after Arthur’s death, I had done nothing but lash out and hurt. But Cyara, and before her, Charis and Carly, had offered their friendship and support unconditionally.
I supposed that now, I would prove that I deserved it. By saving all of us from the succubus. That had to be my priority, even at the cost of mending things with Arran. I may not have the time to do both.
“Veyka…,” Cyara finally said, her voice low and soothing. “I know it hurts. But you let him in once. You can do it again.”
“Maybe.” That was the most I could manage.
Several heartbeats later, the crystal went dark. Whether that meant that I was no longer receptive to the conversation or that Cyara was, I was not certain.
52
ARRAN
